"You're going to neutralize it."
"That's the idea."
"How?"
Anders sighed and shot a quick look at Toby as he replied, "Well, that is the problem, isn't it."
Toby said, "It's like toppling dominoes. If we could be sure that it is strictly a local problem-but it isn't pointing that way. And of course it is not just the politics. They-these people have a brand new playground here. And they can reach the entire world from right here. God, they're into just about everything."
Bolan said, "You better know it."
Toby told him, "We've been worried that you would take Copa out of play. Snuff him."
Anders hastened to add: "Too bad that it's not that simple. Copa is a nobody, in the national sense. We just don't know enough about the guy. Maybe he's no more than the local puppet. We cut his strings and where are we? Back to the beginning, that's where. And while we're scrambling around trying to pin the new puppet, we lose the game by default. So what's gained by a snuff?"
Toby said, "That's why Carl is so vital to the operation. We must get him inside, in a sensitive position."
Bolan softly inquired, "Via Singapore?"
"We were working another problem in that part of the world," Anders explained. "We literally fell into this Tennessee game."
Bolan said, "Stroke of luck."
"Exactly. Don't knock it. We take what we can get. A domestic outfit was already sniffing the Tennessee trail. It all came together at headquarters. So we take what we can get. Don't you?"
Bolan grinned. "Usually. I took Molly Franklin."
Toby asked, without emotion, "Dead or alive?"
He gave her a hard look. "Alive and kicking. She wanted out. I got her out."
"Wonderful. So you just called time, stopped the game, and got off to rescue a-"
Anders stopped her with a growl. "Toby! Don't start it up again!"
She replied, meekly, "Sorry."
Bolan said, "The Mob takes what they can get, too. I don't believe they came here looking for a political patsy. They came looking for the same old thing-a quick buck. Copa found his edge and moved it in. Virgin territory-yeah, maybe. But I don't see a grand conspiracy-no puppets, no puppeteers. It smells like a ground floor operation to me. The guy is trying to build something here. He has outside help, sure, but I think it's mainly in the form of financial support. Once it gets rolling-well, yeah, maybe so. Nashville could become the seat of the new empire. Right now there is no empire-none that counts. It has returned to the feudal system. Copa is no puppet. He's a lord, and this is his realm. He's the man. I believe if you took him out, right now, the whole thing would fall apart.”
"Wow," Toby said softly, with mock surprise. "He walks and talks."
Anders growled, "Knock it off, Toby." He asked Bolan, "How strong is your feel on that?"
Bolan's gaze traveled from one to the other-then he clasped hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. After a moment, he said, "I guess there's no reason to test it. We still have Carl."
"Where is Carl?"
"He's in a cabin out near Priest Reservoir." "What's his circumstances?"
"He's a prisoner of war."
"Which war?"
"The one between Nick Copa and Gordy Mazzarelli."
"How long do you plan on leaving him there?"
Bolan sighed. His gaze came down and rested briefly on each of them as he replied. "I guess that's up to you."
Anders stared thoughtfully at his own hands for a moment. Toby started to say something then changed her mind.
Bolan said, "What?"
She said, "I guess it's up to Tommy."
Anders quietly said, "We'd rather not see Copa burn right away. Not until we know it's safed."
Yeah. Bolan could respect that. He asked, "Can Carl deliver on that heroin?"
"Sure. We have it safed away. He can have it with a phone call."
Toby said, "It's really very important. It's a side issue, like Tommy said, but it's also the key to the underground railroad. We can bust a hundred big time wholesalers with that shipment. And maybe we can bust a whole lot more than that."
"So you want Carl delivered to Nick Copa." Anders said, "That's where we've been angling all along."
"So Lyons becomes Copa's horseman. Then what?"
"Then we begin the burn on Copa."
"How?"
"Carl will do that. Once he gets inside." "How?"
Anders grinned as he replied, "Very carefully."
Bolan grinned back. "Yeah. He could do it, too."
"Sure he could do it."
Bolan said. "Okay. Before I forget-do me a favor. Tell Hal to get word to Sticker that the Full House turned the trick. Sticker is a worrier. He should be updated."
"Hal" was Harold Brognola, federal chief of everything. "Sticker" was the redoubtable Leo Turrin, inside man extraordinary, the feds' man at Mafia headquarters.
Anders said, "I don't know what it means but I'll send the message. A Full House?" Bolan said, "Yeah. And it's getting fuller all the time. I guess you'd better call in your fail-safe line, Tom. But give me operating room." "What's the trick?"
"The trick is to safe an empire."
Toby sniffed, and said, "I thought we were getting square."
"I've been there all the while," Bolan told her. "How about you?"
She dropped her eyes but then she flashed him a smile and replied, "Touche, Captain Quick. But don't you think we should be in the signals this time?"
Indeed, yes. Bolan the Quick would have it no other way.
"Just give me plenty of room," he said quietly.
CHAPTER 17
Conditions were not exactly ideal for a night operation. There was a full moon, a cloudless sky, no wind anywhere. But it would have to do.
He was in blacksuit and soft footwear. The big silver.44 magnum rode the honor spot at the right hip. Close to the heart and snugged into a special shoulder harness was the whispering Beretta. Slit pockets at the outer calf of each leg carried surgical quality stilettos. Nylon garrotes were coiled and waiting at the waist.
He had been scouting them for more than an hour. He had their numbers and he knew that Crazy Gordy was anything but crazy. The guy was a real pro. He knew how to set a defense. He had ten people on outside guard duty, as silent as the night and well placed for maximum utilization of what was there.
Bolan had scouted the place earlier, during daylight, from a distance. And although he had spotted Carl Lyons strolling the grounds in the company of two keepers, there had been no other guards visible at that time. Now the place was crawling with them.
Which only made the job harder, not impossible.
But it would have been a hell of a lot simpler and surer if he had gone in while the boys were engaging themselves at Juliana Academy.
The cabin was emplaced on level ground in a relatively isolated setting. The Percy Priest Reservoir was a huge body of water, a major recreational area with a couple dozen parks hugging its shoreline. During daylight hours, the entire area had been busy with people. Not now. Now the whole world seemed deserted.
Except for that little cabin nestled in the trees.
There was activity in there, all right.
And silent sentries posted all around. Most of them carried sawed-off shotguns. They would be repeaters, bet on it. Two guys were hefting submachine guns. They were the anchor men-close in.
And there was a rover with nothing but a side-arm worn in a big shoulder holster. He was the most vulnerable. Therefore he would be the first to go.
The rover died without knowing it. A silent wraith in black stepped from behind a tree as the guy passed by. A razor-sharp stiletto expertly found its mark between the proper vertebrae of the neck and the rover dropped with a sigh.
Bolan quietly bore the body away and searched it. The only thing of interest was a small micro radio clipped to the belt. The moonlight was so bright that he could read the PocketCom trademark on the little rig. It looked like a paging device, which it was-but it was also a two-channel CB radio.